


Touched

by traccigaryn



Series: Touched [1]
Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Episode: s01e06 The Cloud, F/M, Hand porn, Introspection, Light Angst, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22656178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traccigaryn/pseuds/traccigaryn
Summary: Sometimes our touch says what our voices can't
Relationships: Chakotay/Kathryn Janeway
Series: Touched [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1869079
Comments: 15
Kudos: 70





	Touched

**Author's Note:**

> For all the Voyager Bookclub members who are as distracted by Chakotay's hands as I am.

His hands were not the first thing she noticed about him. 

She'd studied his Starfleet personnel headshot and grainy security holovids from Maquis raids before launch, but those had only shown her his intelligent eyes, his fierce stance. When he'd materialized on her Bridge wielding a phaser, she'd been focused on diffusing the situation. His physical presence had only registered when she'd stepped into his space and tilted her chin at him. It didn't even occur to her until later that he'd given no indication he minded her being there.

Kathryn had always been a tactile person, and as she got to know her crew, her habit of touching to comfort, to lend support, had blossomed again. But for some reason, she shied away from including him in those gestures. She told herself it was because she was still getting to know this man who had so recently been her quarry and who could easily still betray her. They may have reached a mutually-satisfactory conclusion to their argument over the chief engineer position, but she hadn't been blind to the confident, insistent way he'd navigated the situation.

As the weeks wore on, she began to crave human contact. Fleeting touches in the course of duty were all she'd felt since launch. She might be a buttress to others, but where could she find aid in return? As captain, she had no right to seek it from any of her crew.

Then Chakotay's shoulder had accidentally brushed hers as they left Sickbay. She'd drawn strength from that for days and had to consciously stop herself from leaning in toward him in case it happened again. 

She wrestled with how to captain a crew feeling as alone as she did. Her first attempts had just made B'Elanna nervous, Harry even more flustered. In her introspective and caffeine-deprived state, she then hazarded an attempt with Chakotay, leaning across the console to ask how the crew was faring. 

To her surprise, he'd reciprocated. He was an observant man. Perhaps he had sensed her recent struggles to figure out the appropriate distance with the crew. She watched careful decision flicker rapidly across his face, and then he shared his tradition of speaking with animal guides. Another tactical gambit, and he offered to teach her how to speak with hers. Before her brain could catch up with her mouth and restore decorum, she'd given a thoughtlessly flirty acceptance.

By the time he came to her Ready Room, medicine bundle in hand, she'd become engrossed in solving the riddle of the nebula. Her earlier attempts to bond with the crew had been forgotten. Caught up in being a captain, she was slow to respond and reflexively closed herself off, hands tightly clasped together as she settled beside him on the floor.

Ignoring her renewed reticence, he wordlessly tugged on her wrist and drew her hands apart. She was so distracted by the rush of intimacy she just let him guide her to the akoonah. The afterglow of that action caused her to accept Harry's invitation to the Holodeck.

Sharking everyone in the pool game had been far too fun, but as she settled in to sleep that night, her mind wandered back to her Ready Room and his touch. It had been over in a moment, but it was the first time anyone had deliberately, kindly touched her since they arrived in the Delta Quadrant. The loneliness of the situation overwhelmed her, and she quietly cried herself to sleep.

In the morning, as she washed away the lingering tear stains and melancholy, she realized he'd offered something besides a glimpse into his private life. He had presented her with the option to be more than two former enemies and more than two colleagues working toward a shared goal. They could be allies. Maybe even friends. And he had told her this using her own nonverbal language.

A clever man with clever hands. 

It gave her a lot to think about. He made no further attempts to touch her, but the seed had been planted, the offer made. After careful deliberation, she signaled her acceptance: a quick pat on his shoulder after some skillful piloting. His responding smile conveyed more than delight at a shared success. 

He let her take the lead, but he always seemed to know just when she needed his touch the most. A comforting hand on her shoulder. His firm chest a hair's breadth from her back. His strength was hers whenever she needed it. 

* * *

Of course, her thoughts about his touch are not always so esoteric. She may not have noticed his hands first thing, but once she did, she couldn't stop noticing them. They were somehow calloused, even after so much time on a ship, and she speculated about his off-duty activities. They were gentle, like his presence. And they were huge.

She watched them dance across the console between them, and she wondered what they would feel like dancing across her skin. They would engulf her breasts, span her waist. The contrast between soft skin and hard callous would tease and tantalize. She could almost feel those hands on her, running smoothly up her legs and skating across her inner thighs. She felt her nipples peak under the layers of her uniform. She gave a sharp intake of breath. 

Chakotay glanced over at her, a question in his eyes, and she had to look away quickly. "Just something I'd forgotten, Commander," she told him. Damn, how had she forgotten what that felt like? And how was she going to forget this fantasy?

She was still caught up in her daydream when she got back to her quarters later that day. She tried to eat. Her book didn't distract either. She hoped some personnel reports might lull her to sleep, but she remained wide awake. 

Restlessly, she punched the pillow and shifted positions. The slip of her nightdress across her skin felt like a ghostly touch. With a sigh, she slid her fingers down where she needed them to be. Let out a hiss of relief. 

It was his hands on her. In her. Her own slender fingers felt inadequate as they caressed her wet folds, and she found herself slipping another one inside, dreaming it was his large fingers stretching her. 

Her movements became frantic as she sought relief from his touch and her imagination. The orgasm that overtook her was fast and strong. As the ripples faded, she curled in on herself and told herself it was just this once. That tomorrow she would look him in the eye and not remember tonight.

But in the morning he smiled at her, and she was lost all over again.

**Author's Note:**

> This idea started out just as a fixation on Chakotay's hands, but when I went back and watched early episodes for "research", I noticed a lot of interesting things about their interactions and how/when they started, so then I had to write that too.


End file.
